


That's Business, Baby

by neoclassicalwords



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Anal Sex, Casual Sex, Embarrassment, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hate Sex, His name is Eric because I'm lazy ok, Human Jeremy Heere's Squip, JTam Squip, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Office Sex, Rimming, Sexual Content, Why? Why not?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2020-03-13 05:30:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 14,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18934438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoclassicalwords/pseuds/neoclassicalwords
Summary: Jeremy Heere loved his life until Eric Reed showed up and fucked with him like a puppet on a string. Formerly a Head of Operations and now demoted to janitor, what will he do? How will he survive? And why is Eric such an absolute smarmy asshole?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do not repost on another site.

Jeremy Heere loved his life. 

He had worked his way up from the bottom of the corporate ladder to a rung close to the very top. He was the Head of Operations of the east coast branch of Stellar Corp, a prominent accounting company, their job being to crunch numbers and manage money for elite clientele.

He had his own office. The power wasn't the part of the job he enjoyed, however; it was the privacy. He had his own time to file paperwork and make decisions. He had his own little corner of the building to call his own. It was his own little quiet haven.

Until it wasn't.

One day, he entered the building, greeting his employees in the halls and asking them about their reports. It was one of his favorite parts of the job to be honest, talking with people who were excited about their work.

Jeremy took the walk around, reminding his employees of deadlines and timelines, of meetings and greetings. Then, like usual, he went to unlock his office door.

It was already open.

He was shocked to find someone inside, staring out the window at the city skyline. The man before him was tall, built, but in a slender way. From his posture, he was confident and self assured. When Jeremy closed the door, he turned, revealing his face, chiseled and stubbled.

In any other situation, Jeremy would consider him hot. Not today, though.

“Ah, you must be Jeremy Heere.” He held out his hand, speaking in a California accent. When Jeremy wrinkled his nose and stared at him with a confused expression, he lowered it with ease.

“Who are you?” He asked, frowning.

In response, the man frowned. “They didn't tell you I was coming? Well, just as well. I'm Eric Reed, Head of Operations of Stellar West Coast.”

Oh, so he was _that_ Eric Reed. The cutthroat businessman Eric Reed. The Eric Reed that had been on the cover of _Forbes_ and _Time_. The Eric Reed currently standing in his office. Fuck, he should have recognized him sooner. That valley boy accent made much more sense now.

“Oh, this is… unexpected. Why are you here? Did corporate send you?”

“You could say that,” Eric said with a slick drawl, arms crossed behind his back. He went to stand by Jeremy's desk and for some reason, Jeremy's stomach dropped with unease. 

Without as much as a glance, he casually pushed Jeremy's name plaque off the desk.

“What was that for?” Jeremy stuttered, stepping defensively toward him.

“Oh, I'm just making the space more personal.” In its place, he removed a matching plaque from a cardboard box, setting it where Jeremy's once was. 

“More personal…?”

“I'm afraid that I was transferred.” His eyes flickered to Jeremy's own, his look almost playful.

“Transferred?” Jeremy repeated dumbly, swallowing thickly. 

The words only started sinking in when Eric sat down in his chair at his desk after removing his plaque.

He was here to replace him.

“I'm sure there's an executive position open for you. I could ask around.” A smile.

Jeremy's hopes went up immediately. “Really? That's-”

“After all, we do need someone to fill in as executive janitor.”

Executive janitor.

“This is a takeover,” Jeremy blurted, gaping. “Since when-"

“This was in the works since January.”

“January?” How had he not known?

“Also, this isn't a takeover.” Eric leaned back, grin becoming almost devious. “This is a coup, sweetheart.” 

Jeremy's jaw dropped even wider and his face flushed. Eric fucking Reed had the urge to wink, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. “But, hey. That's business, baby. You can go now.”

And so Jeremy went to the janitor’s closet with a box of his things and knocked his head against the door weakly.

Jeremy Heere hated his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Forbes_ has said he's "The Freshest Face in Business".
> 
>  _People_ has said he's the "Sexiest Man Alive".
> 
>  _Cracked_ has said he's "a legit actual psychopath. Fr."
> 
> The girls down the hall have said that he sleeps with a different person each night. Really.
> 
> Jeremy has said he's an asshole.

_Forbes_ has said he's "The Freshest Face in Business".

_People_ has said he's the "Sexiest Man Alive".

_Cracked_ has said he's "a legit actual psychopath. Fr."

The girls down the hall have said that he sleeps with a different person each night. Really.

Jeremy has said that he's an asshole. 

A hot asshole, his brain tacked on like a jerk, but he was a hot asshole who practically fired Jeremy and demoted him to janitorial duty (which he doesn't know how to do), so he's dead to him.

A few rumors have gone through the company like shockwaves, but, sadly for Jeremy, there was nothing a little Eric Reed brand damage control couldn't do. Every concern about being under new management was quiet within a few weeks. 

There were a few people left who gave him meek, pitying smiles, but only when Eric wasn't around.

(Jeremy read an issue of _The New Yorker_ and discovered that, hey, Eric's leadership actually made stocks increase. Whoop-de-fucking-do.)

Jeremy Heere was a name that wasn't uttered very often in the building. It only came spilling from someone's lips if they had trash that needed cleaning or windows that needed washing. The whole experience made sure he'd thank any custodians he would ever meet in the future for putting up with everyone's shit. Sometimes even literal shit, when bathrooms were involved.

And Eric was still an asshole, surprise, surprise. An asshole who had the particular need to see Jeremy suffer for some reason. 

( _Maybe he gets off on it_ , said Jeremy's brain, but Jeremy's brain really needed to learn how to shut up.)

He always asked for Jeremy to clean up his messes and his messes specifically, which usually pertain to broken, half empty whiskey bottles, barely legible scribbling, and sometimes even halves of Panera paninis. 

Mostly menial tasks. Mostly boring things. Mostly with a smirk on his face, daring Jeremy to challenge his authority. 'After all', said his eyes, 'I took your position. I took your dignity. You're back where you started at the bottom where you belong.'

Today, he wanted Jeremy to shred some documents, so Jeremy did it begrudgingly. He went into the alcove with a printer and shredder and as instructed, fed them into the machine sheet by sheet. There were plenty of them, so Jeremy got bored quickly. He wanted to keep entertained, so he looked around the room.

The bulletin board caught his eye.

On it were business cards, important events, and the like, but that wasn't what he was drawn to. 

What he was drawn to was a piece of paper, a vivid blue, that read, "PA Position Open - Contact Eric Reed for details."

That asshole, was the first thought that registered, then another appeared. He should do it. What could be the harm?

So once the shredding was done, he tore the paper off of the board with all his might, stalked through the office, and entered Eric-fucking-Reed's, slamming the paper down on the desk.

"I'll take it," he said as he caught his breath, eyes level with Eric's own, which held an emotion he couldn't describe.

"Wonderful," Eric said in a tone of voice Jeremy couldn't place, leaning forward toward him. "It'll be a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Heere."

_A pleasure his ass_ , he wanted to say but decided not to, because this is his boss and he might take it the wrong way.

Oh. He was smiling smugly. He definitely would take it the wrong way.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe Eric wouldn't be as much of an asshole. Maybe he would treat Jeremy with some actual respect like a human being would.

Maybe this was the start of something new.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was different than Jeremy thought it would be. Not necessarily a good or bad different, just unexpected. For one, he didn't think he would run so many errands. Cleaning up an office is one thing. Finding obscure items to make your boss happy is another.
> 
> Especially when those obscure items are something you can buy at a Starbucks for a whopping $5.99.

It was different than Jeremy thought it would be. Not necessarily a good or bad different, just unexpected. For one, he didn't think he would run so many errands. Cleaning up an office is one thing. Finding obscure items to make your boss happy is another.

Especially when those obscure items are something you can buy at a Starbucks for a whopping $5.99. Eric only orders in grande, thankfully. Jeremy wouldn't want to know the price of the largest size.

By the time Eric was done describing the drink and Jeremy was done transcribing it on paper, it filled the whole page. When Jeremy checked his watch, he saw that it was half past noon. Great, he had to deal with the lunch rush. In a place like Starbucks, that meant lines out the door.

But he wanted to keep his job and honestly, it was his fault for applying for the position, so he just smiled and went along with it for Eric's sake and his own.

He waited in the long ass line with Eric's twenty dollar bill, checking the time every couple seconds, and when it was finally his turn, he gave the order and sympathized with the barista who had to fill it. Jeremy used his own name for it because using Eric's name would be weird, especially since he was so well known.

It took about five minutes for the order to be filled and he felt so bad for the barista that he put the remains of the twenty in the tip jar. Baristas didn't get tipped much anyway, so he knew after a day like this they could use a little extra supplemental income.

The trip back to the office was normal, kind of peaceful, actually. Everyone else was so busy eating and driving and doing other things that Jeremy's route was practically abandoned. He let himself relax, if only for a few minutes.

Once he entered the office, however, the atmosphere was vastly different. He didn't know why; everyone had been in such good spirits before he had left. The air was thick with something Jeremy came to realize was tension, the people around him avoiding his eyes. One person in particular chuckled to themselves, saying, "Poor PA." He sure felt like one. Things were so different now compared to a month ago.

The air got more stiff once he slipped further into the labyrinth of cubicles, tens of people avoiding his eyes. Something was different. He wasn't sure what, but something happened while he was gone.

Jeremy knocked on Eric's office door, standing stiffly. All of the others' reactions had made him hesitant. "Uh, E- Mr. Reed? I got your coffee."

No response. Weird.

He waited outside a couple moments for any form of acknowledgement. When he got none, he snuck a sip of Eric's designer coffee. It tasted like actual happiness. Eric must have calculated what ingredients in what amounts would taste good together, Jesus fuck.

Jeremy knocked again. He heard muffled talking. Maybe one voice. Maybe two. That was when he tried the knob.

That was when the door opened.

Eric was standing there at the desk, nothing unusual-

Wait. No, that was-

He was wrong. Eric was standing there at the desk, but instead of typing or calculating, he was _fucking someone _on it.__

__Jeremy choked. Eric looked up. "Oh, hello, Jeremy. Nice of you to drop in. Is my coffee still warm?"__


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy couldn't help but stare in shock and something like awe at his casual demeanor. How could he do that so easily? It was almost like he did this very thing all the time. He was Eric Reed, so he probably did.
> 
> Jeremy was starting to see why the last PA presumably quit.

Jeremy couldn't help but stare in shock and something like awe at his casual demeanor. How could he do that so easily? It was almost like he did this very thing all the time. He was Eric Reed, so he probably did.

Jeremy was starting to see why the last PA presumably quit.

"Well? Is my coffee still warm?" Eric himself inquired, raising his brow. Aside from the occasional hitch or huff in his voice, the sex was having no effect on him.

"Y- Yes," Jeremy managed, setting it on his desk with a shaky hand. Why was Eric still looking directly at him? Was it to intimidate him? To dare him to quit?

His thoughts were interrupted by the person beneath Eric writhing and moaning out. Jeremy hadn't even noticed Eric's pace had changed.

On second thought, Jeremy hadn't even noticed the person beneath Eric was a man.

He barely registered his dick giving a weak twitch in his pants at the sight, clearing his throat. Jeremy stared at the wall instead. It was safer that way.

"Hey," Eric directed, snapping his fingers whilst snapping his hips. " _Look at me when I speak to you _."__

__Jeremy hesitantly met his gaze, barely restraining the whimper that the man on the desk wasn't afraid to vocalize._ _

__"Good," he said, tone dripping with something that made Jeremy shiver._ _

__This was when he noticed the sheen of sweat on Eric's face. This was when he noticed the undulating of muscle under a silky suit. This was when he realized Eric was paying more attention to him than the man he was actively fucking._ _

__But if that were true, why was he moving at a faster pace than he had when Jeremy entered?_ _

__

__"Pay attention," Eric growled, Jeremy nodding rigidly. "I want you to hand me my coffee-"_ _

__"But you're-"_ _

__"I'm what?"__

____"Busy," Jeremy croaked weakly, sure his face was on fire._ _ _ _

____"Work waits for- for no man, Jeremy."___ _

______"You are literally having sex with someone."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Suddenly, the man on the desk piped up, looking at Jeremy and then Eric. "Hey," he whimpered, shifting on the wooden surface. "I thought you said I wouldn't have to wait much longer."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Something came up," Eric said simply with a shrug of his shoulders. He slammed his hips forward so much the desk moved an inch._ _ _ _ _ _

______"But I need to come," he groaned, insistently pleading to Eric._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Oh," Eric drawled, something changing in his eyes. "You want to come, hm?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______He nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, please-"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Well, do it on your own time. I need to have an, ah, important conversation with my PA." Eric pulled out of him, falling back onto his chair. When the man stared at him, Eric's expression soured. "Jeremy. Broom. Now."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Wh-" He breathed, more an exhalation of air than anything._ _ _ _ _ _

_____"Get the fucking broom," Eric snarled. _Jeremy didn't think twice before grabbing it. He edged toward the man, who pulled on his boxers and pants and rushed out the door. Jeremy stared out into the hall before closing the door and leaning against it. "Jesus Christ." He, unfortunately, turned his attention toward Eric, seeing him tuck himself into his pants._ _ _ _ _ _

______Fuck, he was still hard-_ _ _ _ _ _

______"You've had a long day," Eric mumbled, blotting his face with a tissue. "Take the rest of the day off."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"But-"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Do it. Boss' orders."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jeremy sighed, leaving the office. He made sure to take the back way out. He made sure no one saw the particular way he was walking, his legs crossed awkwardly._ _ _ _ _ _

______He needed to tell Michael._ _ _ _ _ _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Michael, it's me."
> 
> "Nice to meet you, Mr. Me. What do you need today?"
> 
> "It's _Jeremy_."

Once Jeremy entered the relative safety of his apartment, he slumped against the door. He was definitely going to need some brain bleach. Or at least one of those flashy things from Men in Black. He could really use a memory alteration right then.

He dug through his pockets, diving through seas of lint and spare change to find his phone. Once it was free, Jeremy opened up speed dial. There were three numbers there: 911, his dad, and Michael. He called Michael, lifting his phone to his ear.

"Pick up, pick up," he whispered, bouncing his leg. "Come on."

"Michael Mell, game designer extraordinaire, how can I be of service?" Jeremy could hear his grin on the other side of the line.

"Michael, it's me."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Me. What do you need today?"

"It's _Jeremy_."

"Oh, hey, bud. Been forever. What's up?"

"My dick."

" _Whoa_ , okay. Didn't need to hear that. Why are you telling me this?"

Jeremy aggressively shrugged off his coat. "It's a long story."

"I've got... five minutes. Talk."

He sighed heavily, sitting on his floor. "So, basically... my boss-"

"Your boss? Aren't you your own boss?"

Shit. He had forgotten to tell Michael about all the shit that went down. Shit shit fuck.

"Uh... Well... Don't you read Newsweek?"

"Uh, no? What am I, an old, lame dad?"

Jeremy huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I got... replaced."

"Replaced? What do you mean, replaced? Are you a pod person now?"

"No, I'm this asshole's PA."

"Fucking language."

"I- oh, my God. Please stop with the commentary for five minutes."

"Fine. Lips zipped."

"You're still talking- Whatever. Well, this guy from the West Coast side of the company came waltzing into my life and tossed it in the garbage. The literal garbage. I was a janitor."

" _What?_ Dude, dude, dude. This is some crazy shit."

"I know! So, basically, I was like, _fuck that_ , and signed up to be his PA. You know, to have some dignity."

"Jeremy. Jeremy. You've got a death wish. Or at least you're a masochist, not that it's my business. That is the worst idea ever."

Jeremy grit his teeth, hanging his head. "I got him his fucking coffee today and he was having sex with someone in my office. _His_ office. Someone's office."

"Wait, wait, wait- didn't you say your dick was up at the start of this conversation? You got hard? You were into it?"

Pouring all his frustration into his voice, Jeremy muttered, "Fuck you," and hung up. He practically collapsed, staring down at the tent at his pants like it was a disgrace. In a way it was, but it hurt like hell and Jeremy needed to stop feeling sorry for himself for a couple minutes.

He got up and went into his room, laid back on his bed, and closed his eyes. He let his mind take over.

And take over it did. It wandered like nobody's business, from the face of the man he had been fucking, screwed up in delight to Eric's own visage, hair tousled, eyes blazing. How he hadn't paid attention to the guy under him, how his eyes had locked on Jeremy, his tone, everything, misinterpreted through the lense of Jeremy's desire.

By the time it had started to sink in, Jeremy's palm was wet and tacky and his eyes were wide. 

_Fuck_. Fuck fuck shit no. No.

An immense wave of guilt slammed into him, knocking him off his metaphorical feet. He stared in horror at his hand and then his softening dick, looking between them.

He had gotten off to his _fucking boss_. Fuck Jeremy's life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy ignored Eric the next day at work. And the day after that and the day after that. This went on as Jeremy became more distant and Eric gave him increasingly more ridiculous fetch quests.
> 
> He still did his job, though. The last thing he wanted to do was get fired, which was worse than his own guilty get-off pity party.

Jeremy ignored Eric the next day at work. And the day after that and the day after that. This went on as Jeremy became more distant and Eric gave him increasingly more ridiculous fetch quests.

He still did his job, though. The last thing he wanted to do was get fired, which was worse than his own guilty get-off pity party.

Eric also tried to talk to him more than usual, which really said a lot. It made Jeremy feel like he could sense it somehow, sniff the shame out by the shape of his spine. He got more questions about his day, his life, his _personal_ life. Eric was like a bloodhound on the hunt, smelling for clues like a canine Sherlock Holmes.

Jeremy almost laughed at his own analogy. Fuck, he was in too deep. Never mind. He didn't want to imagine 'Eric' and 'deep' in the same sentence. God forbid he got off on him again.

As Jeremy completed more tasks, Eric asked more and more about him. Maybe in some other messed up alternate universe, this would be Eric actually trying to get to know him. How funny would that be?

He had also noticed that Eric had started looking like a pouty child. Like someone moping in the corner in time out for breaking someone else's crayon.

Breaking someone else's crayon? He could break Jeremy's crayon any- Jesus. He really had lost his mind if Eric had caused him to think up things like _that_.

It was keeping him up at night. He was actually losing sleep over this shit, over his own shame for jerking off. So, his mind wandered. It couldn't have been that big of a deal, right? His mind wandered all the time and he couldn't really think straight with a hand on his dick, anyway. Everything was fine.

"Jeremy, could you come into my office?" Eric called, accent seeming thicker than usual.

Jeremy's shoulders hunched as he looked into the office. The office that was once his. The office where Eric had bent a guy over on his desk and-

 _Shut up_.

He needed to clear his head. Or something to clear his head for him. Maybe Eric had some fancy-ass Napa Valley wine he could use to drown his sorrows. Or Tennessee whiskey. Maybe he liked his drinks hard.

He definitely liked something else hard- Jeremy was tempted to punch himself in clear daylight in an office building.

This is where his life had come to. Disappointing.

"Coming," Jeremy exclaimed, voice nearly cracking, before rushing into his office. He tried not to think of the implications- Eric, his tone of voice, the office itself- and shut the door behind him. Just in case. He never knew what could happen. Eric always kept him guessing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy sat ramrod straight in his chair, worrying at his lip. "So, you're- you're giving me a paid vacation because I- walked in on you having... _sex_?"

"Take a seat," Eric said, gesturing to a new chair. When Jeremy was last there, he hadn't really focused on the office itself. It had been given a makeover, painted a shade of off white. It would have been sterile if not for accent furniture in hues of blue.

Jeremy sat down, looking across the desk at him. Eric's hands were folded under his chin, a composed look on his face. His lips, however, twitched an a way that suggested the opposite. As soon as it flicked, it was gone. "Is this about..." Jeremy began nervously, pulling at the sleeve of his own shirt.

"I have good news. You're going to Hawaii."

Jeremy paused a moment, unsure if he heard correctly, then opened his mouth to say something. No words came out.

"Don't worry about planning it. All the fine details are sorted out." He set his hands on the desk, sliding a ticket over to Jeremy's side. Sure enough, it was for a flight to Hawaii.

"I- um- what?" Jeremy sat ramrod straight in his chair, worrying at his lip. "So, you're- you're giving me a paid vacation because I- walked in on you having... _sex_?"

Eric didn't bother to stifle a laugh. "Not exactly. You'll be doing some work there."

"Huh?"

"You see," he began conspiratorially, making an unfamiliar gesture, "there's this gala I'm slated to go to, and I couldn't find someone to accompany me. Short notice. You know how it is."

 

Oh _fucking_ no. Was he trying to torture Jeremy? Probably. He might get off on it. Scratch that. Definitely did. Michael was wrong. _Eric_ was the one into torture, it seemed. Giving it, at least.

"So, I'm going... to a gala... with you."

Another chuckle. "You're a quick learner. It's only for one night. I'll return you in one piece, I promise."

Jeremy stared at him in shock (and maybe awe). His brain started to work again, cogs turning slowly. "So... date. You need a date. Does that mean I have to pretend to... you know..."

Eric didn't answer him, lip twitching again. Fucking fuck.

"Well, too bad, I can't go. I have nothing to wear!" Jeremy exclaimed.

"I prepared a suit in your size in case you needed one," Eric countered, an eyebrow cocking higher on his face.

"How-" He blurted, alarmed.  
"You forget to tuck in your tags. I'm not psychic. Just observant."

"Oh... Well, I'm not packed."

"I have a duffel with toiletries and clothes for you," Eric supplied. He always had an answer, didn't he?

"Um, okay. When are we, uh, leaving?"

"Now."

" _What?_ "

Eric stood from his desk, two duffels in his arms. "Our flight is in an hour. Try not to lay it on too thick, okay, Jeremy? You're pretending to be my boyfriend, not my husband." And then he left the room. Jeremy had no clue what to do other than follow.

Pro: He was going to Hawaii.

Con: He was going with his boss. His hot boss. His fake boyfriend for a night, apparently.

His mind was fucked. That was it, wasn't it? Eric had finally broken him.

Once they got on the plane, luckily enough, Eric put on a sleeping mask and slouched in the chair. Good. He didn't think he could handle intelligent conversation at that point.

Jeremy was quiet, resting his eyes. He needed some time to himself after that bombshell of a morning. Hours later, when they had departed the plane and the airport and arrived at the hotel, checking in came and went like a breeze. He and Eric took the elevator up to their room.

The first thing he noticed was that it was spacious. The second thing he noticed was the atmosphere. It was inherently _romantic_ , with champagne and rose petals and candles, all the extras money could buy. Jeremy cringed.

"I didn't know it was the Honeymoon Suite," Eric explained, unzipping the duffles. "Here, put this on." He held out a two piece suit, shirt, and tie, the garments folded over his arm.

Jeremy took them wordlessly, entering the bathroom. He changed without much of a hassle with anything beside the tie, then reentered the room.

Eric was shirtless. Well, half shirtless, technically, but since Jeremy could see nipple, he was pretty sure it counted on the shirtless scale. As soon as Jeremy came to the realization he was staring, Eric's shirt had been buttoned and he approached Jeremy.

"Here, let me help you with that," he murmured, leaning in close. For a second, Jeremy thought he was going to kiss him, but instead, he took the ends of his tie into his palms and tied it correctly. "There." He took a step back before turning away. From the way his shoulders moved, Jeremy could tell he was tying his own.

Jeremy picked up Eric's blazer, offering it out to him. He took it with a mumbled, "Thanks," slipping it on in one fluid motion. "Shall we?" Eric asked, something like mischief in his eye. He offered Jeremy a hand.

Jeremy sucked in a nervous breath, taking it in his own. It was big and warm and... surprisingly gentle.

He led Jeremy out of the room. "Let's, then."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy's eyes flickered around. He took in every sight and smell, slightly overwhelmed, but only in the best way possible. "Wow," he whispered.
> 
> "Wow indeed," Eric echoed with a grin, leading him inside.

Eric cast the doors aside with a flourish. The ballroom was massive. There were people _everywhere_. Jeremy must have flinched, because Eric squeezed his hand to comfort him. He relished it.

Jeremy's eyes flickered around. He took in every sight and smell, slightly overwhelmed, but only in the best way possible. "Wow," he whispered.

"Wow indeed," Eric echoed with a grin, leading him inside.

"What is this gala for, by the way?" Jeremy asked him softly. "You never mentioned it, just- you whisked me to a plane and that was that."

"It's for a marine charity fund. Helps protect endangered sea creatures from extinction through anti-overfishing and conservation efforts." He spoke close to Jeremy's ear, and damn, if that didn't send a pleasant warmth through his bones.

"Oh- you're into that?" Jeremy blurted. "Not _into_ into, obviously. You know what I mean."

Eric laughed pleasantly. "I know, I know. It's a cause I'm very invested in. You see, I grew up in California, very close to the shore."

Jeremy smiled teasingly. "The rumors are true. You really _are_ a surfer dude."

"In my youth," he protested lightly, "though, I did dabble in the art of surfing."

"Surfer dude."

"You're not going to let me forget this, are you?"

"Nope."

"Serves me right." Eric chuckled softly. It was then Jeremy realized he had been led onto the dance floor. "Would you care to dance?"

Jeremy laughed weakly, flustered. "Um, actually... I'm bad at dancing."

Eric, smiling, took him by the hands and spun him. "Honestly, how bad could you be?"

The spin nearly sent Jeremy faceplanting, but luckily, Eric managed to catch him in time. He even dipped him for good measure. "I see. You're that bad. Sorry."

Jeremy was quiet for a few moments, embarrassed, before he burst into laughter. The sound was inappropriately loud for the gala's environment, but the people around them went along with it, it seemed.

"Well, if dancing is a bust, would you like to get something to eat?" Eric suggested softly, nudging Jeremy's arm.

"Um, sure. They've got those... What are they called again? Orderves?"

"Hors d'oeuvres."

"That's what I said, but fancier."

They went over to the table together, looking through the various options. They both got plates, Jeremy selecting the finger food that looked the most appetizing. Eric had chosen something that looked far too fancy for Jeremy's tastes.

Eric pointed Jeremy to the seats he had reserved and they sat down. Almost instantly, Jeremy popped an hors d'oeuvre into his mouth. It melted perfectly, the flavors complementing each other. He nearly moaned, but remembered that would be impolite and also weird as a Head of Operations' fake boyfriend.

After more heavenly food and an awesome wine pairing, an announcer spoke up, tapping the mic. "Testing, 1, 2, 3. Ah, good, that works. Welcome everyone to our 5th Annual Gala in the pursuit to save marine life worldwide."

There was a round of applause.

"Now. You all know that every year, the largest benefactor comes up and delivers a speech. This year, the person who has donated the most to our cause is... Eric Reed. And in the past couple of weeks, no less. Talk about a surprise!" The woman clapped, the crowd joining in.

Jeremy, admittedly, smiled big. He was almost proud. _Almost_.

Eric grinned at him, getting up from the table and taking the mic from the announcer. "I know that some people find speeches long and boring, so I'll try to keep mine brief. I've loved the sea my whole life and especially its creatures. I was inspired to donate by my boyfriend, Jeremy's, love of porpoises."

Jeremy froze. _Love of porpoises?_ What was he... A conversation came back to the forefront of his mind. It had been a couple of weeks ago, when Jeremy still felt guilty. He had mentioned boredly that he liked dolphins.

No fucking way. Eric Reed had donated tons of money to a charity because he mentioned in passing that _he liked fucking dolphins_. Go big or go home had to be his motto or something.

Jeremy had been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed Eric coming down from the stage. He hadn't noticed him approaching, everyone in the room staring to look at him. He only noticed when he felt warm lips on his and strong arms around his waist.

_He was being kissed in public at a gala he had accidentally caused his boss to go to because he said he liked dolphins._

More pressing matter: _His boss was kissing him._

Jeremy kissed back after a moment, but just as soon as the kiss started, it ended, Eric pulling back with a broad smile.

Right. Publicity kiss. Fake boyfriend. Go figure.

After a couple ceremonies and awards were handed out, the gala was practically over. Jeremy went back up to the room to Eric, dead silent the whole way.

Once they were inside, Eric turned to him, a soft frown on his lips. "I'm sorry for springing that on you. I didn't know what else to do. I could tell you didn't like it. You were kissing me like a fish."

His brain had exploded earlier, so he mumbled, "A fish?"

"Analogy. Anyway, I'm sorry. I should have warned you."

"No, no, it's- It's fine. I promise." He went into the bathroom, slipping out of his jacket and pants, ripping his tie off. Jeremy folded the clothes neatly, then shoved them into Eric's chest. He climbed into bed, in a button up and boxers, and closed his eyes. "I'm beat. Need to sleep."

"I understand," Eric mumbled, but Jeremy only heard his voice fade as he drifted off into nothingness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy woke up grumbling. The morning sun was hot and bright, burning through his eyelids. He covered his eyes with his hands, but it was useless. He was already awake.
> 
> Sighing, he moved to get up, maybe take a quick shower before his flight back, but something stopped him. Namely a pair of arms, big and strong, holding him in place.

Jeremy woke up grumbling. The morning sun was hot and bright, burning through his eyelids. He covered his eyes with his hands, but it was useless. He was already awake.

Sighing, he moved to get up, maybe take a quick shower before his flight back, but something stopped him. Namely a pair of arms, big and strong, holding him in place.

It didn't take a genius to realize they were Eric's, or to realize he was sleeping right behind him.

As Jeremy woke up further, he noticed they were spooning. That was obvious enough; Eric's arms were looped around his waist from behind. What wasn't as obvious at first was that Eric was pressed right up against him, back to chest, shirt to shirt...

And dick to ass. There were boxers in the way, but that didn't make the feeling any more surprising.

Jeremy was suddenly way more awake, especially a certain part of him. He hurried to get up, only for the arms to tighten and Eric to whisper, "Stay," in a small, tired voice.

God, he wished he could.

"Gotta shower," Jeremy protested, pulling his arms free. "Gotta get ready, too, if we wanna get back on time. Our flight's soon."

Eric, with a petulant sigh, retracted his arms, huffing. "You're no fun."

Biting his lip, he replied, "Yeah, I guess not." Jeremy brought his clothes into the bathroom, closing the door. He took a shower, rinsing off quickly in the chilly water, and changed.

The other immediately passed him by once he exited the bathroom, presumably to start on an exhaustingly extensive morning routine.

Jeremy packed the clothes Eric had loaned him into the suitcase, stepping into his shoes. He was ready. All he had to do was wait.

And wait he did. It wasn't until a half hour later that Eric came out, looking cool as a cucumber and like he had the skin of a Greek God. Or something. Morning Jeremy was bad at analogies, especially when his boss was present and he had places to be. "Come on," he goaded. "Hurry up."

"Okay, okay," he chimed, stretching. Jeremy heard a few cracks as his back popped into place and after about a minute of putting on appropriate plane attire (a fancy suit), they were off.

Checking out was just as easy as checking in. The only holdup was a question from the concierge. "And how did the lovely couple enjoy their stay in the honeymoon suite?" She winked, beaming. It was the kind of question she must have been obligated to ask.

Jeremy opened his mouth to answer, but Eric interrupted him, taking hold of his hand. "Oh, absolutely wonderful. I'm leaving a good review."

"Thank you, sir," she called as they left the building.

Everything was quiet on the ride to the airport and in the airport itself, but Eric broke that silence on the actual flight. "Remind me to remind you to leave a good review on their Trip Advisor."

Jeremy just nodded, glancing at him when his head tipped back against the headrest. He caught a glimpse of his lips-

_Warm, soft, and oh so inviting like they had been last night-_

But he looked away, not wanting to think of it. He needed to get into his work subspace. A constant stream of, "Yes, Mr. Reed," and "No, Mr. Reed," and, "It won't happen again, sir."

Wow. Now that he thought about it, it seemed more and more like an actual subspace. Sir? Christ, he was in deep.

Jeremy fell asleep halfway through the flight, Eric waking him upon arrival like clockwork. The rest of the trip passed quickly. As soon as they were back, they entered in comfortable silence. Eric bumped their shoulders together. Maybe there had been a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

The silence, however, was shattered when Jeremy and Eric were interrupted by someone coming up and yanking on Eric's shirt sleeve.

 _It was the guy he had been fucking on the desk_.

Jeremy blushed, humiliated at the sight of one of Eric's conquests approaching him so openly.

The man even glared at Jeremy over Eric's shoulder, lips set in a frown. When he looked really closely, he even saw his middle finger point down at his side, a subtle, "Fuck you."

"Oh," Eric mumbled, laughing sheepishly. He turned to Jeremy, cringing. "I'm afraid my secretary needs my attention. Do you mind, Mr. Heere?"

Mr. Heere-

 _Did he just say_ secretary?

"He asked you a question," the secretary snarked, giving a bitchy Grinchlike grin.

"Oh, no. I don't mind." With a small, weak smirk, he added. "Go give him blue balls again. I know how much you like that. I- actually feel pretty plane sick, so- I'm using a vacation day." 

Jeremy could hear the secretary gasp and Eric mumble something, but the elevator door shut out anything that came after. 

A tear didn't slip down his cheek until he was on the sidewalk. He was due for Cookie Dough ice cream and a conversation with Michael. If he got made fun of? Who cared? Jeremy certainly didn't.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy settled on the couch with an eyeful of tears, a tub of Ben and Jerry's, and a phone by his ear.
> 
> "Look who decided to call me back," Michael began. It was easy to tell he was crossing his arms by the sound of fabric. "You know, it's rude to hang up on... Oh, shit, you're crying."

Jeremy settled on the couch with an eyeful of tears, a tub of Ben and Jerry's, and a phone by his ear.

"Look who decided to call me back," Michael began. It was easy to tell he was crossing his arms by the sound of fabric. "You know, it's rude to hang up on... Oh, shit, you're crying."

"N... No, I'm not crying. Shut up." Jeremy sniffled, wiping his eyes harshly.

"What happened? Did Boss Bitchy set you off again?"

"Kinda...? It's a long story."

"I've always got time for you, man."

One long story later, Michael huffed into the line. "I'm so sorry, Jer. That sucks. But, hey- look at the bright side. You got a free trip to Hawaii."

It was only when Jeremy started wailing that Michael realized his mistake. 

"Um, well, uh... Things can't get worse, right?"

"I... I guess not," Jeremy mumbled through a mouthful of Cookie Dough, dabbing at his tears.

"I mean, he took your first job, but he's not gonna take this one. Probably because you don't have any dignity..." Michael facepalmed audibly. "Shit, I'm making things worse."

"No. No, you're not."

"Huh?"

"You're making things better."

"Jeremy, don't do anything crazy. I'll kick your ass through the phone."

"I'm not doing anything crazy. I'm getting my dignity back." Before Michael could protest, Jeremy hung up. He finished the ice cream left in his mouth, wiping his lips with his arm. "I have an apartment to visit."

About a half an hour later, Jeremy was making his way through the city toward Eric's apartment building. He had provided Jeremy with the address once he signed on as his PA in case of an emergency. Jeremy knew this wasn't the emergency he had envisioned, but he was in a confrontational mood, so fuck him.

He rode up in the elevator, passing numbers upon numbers of apartments in the hall he exited into until he came upon Apartment 8D. Immediately after he knocked, a dog started barking.

Maybe Jeremy had the wrong apartment. Did he say 8C or 8D? Eric didn't seem like the dog type. But soon enough, the door opened, and Jeremy was tackled to the floor. He winced, buried under the weight of something heavy.

When he opened his eyes, he realized it was a large dog. A Great Pyrenees, probably. It was licking his face, which kind of made up for the ache in his ribs.

Jeremy heard laughter from the doorway. When he looked up, he saw Eric towering over him, smiling. "I see you're getting acquainted with Cuddles."

"Cuddles?" What businessman named their dog _Cuddles?_

"Cuddles the Terrible is her full name, but I get lazy. Do forgive her. She's, well, cuddly." With a whistle, he guided her back inside, petting her head.

Jeremy got up with a bewildered look on his face, brushing himself off.

"Do come in," Eric coaxed. "I can pour us some wine."

He hesitantly did as told, locking the door behind him. The apartment was about as nice as he expected, but not as clinical. There was a nice range of blues, from the wall to the cupboards to the carpet. The only thing that wasn't monochromatic was the black leather couch, which Jeremy hesitantly sat down on.

"What kind do you fancy? Pinot? Red? White? Rosé?"

"Uh... Whatever is fine."

Eric came over with two glasses of white wine, sitting beside Jeremy. "What seems to be the problem?"

"You," Jeremy said, taking one glass and drinking a hearty gulp of the wine. Liquid courage. "You're my problem."

"Excuse me?" Eric said, a surprised expression on his face. "How am I your problem?"

"Uh, how are you not my problem? You took my job from me, you forced me to do your dirty work, I walked in on you having sex with your secretary, you took me to Hawaii..." He paused to catch his breath. "To a gala for a charity you donated to for a crazy reason, and- and you probably had sex with your secretary again today because he hates me because... I accidentally gave him blue balls?"

Eric stared at him, absolutely silent for several moments. Jeremy had never seen him this quiet. It scared him. Finally, he turned to look away, cupping a hand around his mouth. "Alexa?"

There was the telltale sound of an Amazon Echo registering the request.

"Play sad violin."

" _Okay_ ," came the automated response, and sad violin music indeed started in the background.

Jeremy gaped at him, enraged. "You're not gonna take me seriously?"

"What even suggests I would? Everything you said is practically true." Eric narrowed his eyes, drinking his wine. He set it down on a nearby table loudly. "And you're upset with me."

"Upset?" He laughed. "Upset. You think I'm fucking upset. I'm _mad_ at you, what part of that do you not fucking understand-?"

He was shut up by hands on his collar pulling him close and lips kissing his harshly. "Shut up," came a mumble against his mouth. "Just shut up for once, will you? Stop thinking."

Jeremy grunted against his lips, shoving at his shoulders once. "I can't stop thinking. You're so confusing. What do you even want?"

"Right now, I want you to shut up." He pulled back slightly. "Clearly, I infuriate you. Clearly, you're frustrated, and clearly, I am, too. What do you say we let out that tension in a productive way?"

"What are you-"

"I'm suggesting hate sex, obviously."

"But what about-"

"Cuddles is napping. She's only this quiet if she's asleep."

"No, I mean..." Jeremy sighed. "You're my boss."

"That doesn't matter right now," Eric protested. "What matters is making sure things don't build up like this again. Holding in negative feelings is unhealthy. So, hate sex. Yes or no?"

He stared at the other, trying to think things through. This could have so many negative consequences, but it was honestly hard for him to think at the moment. His mind was hazy with every variety of frustration known to man. "Yes," he muttered softly, drawing Eric close by the back of his neck. "Fuck, yes."

That was how Jeremy got pressed under Eric's body on his leather couch, both of their pants and boxers down around their ankles, and found himself grinding into oblivion against Eric's thigh.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy saw why people enjoyed spending a night here; the perks were plentiful, and Eric wasn't the type to kick someone out on their bare ass first thing in the morning.
> 
> He could get used to it.

When Jeremy came to, he found Eric still lying on top of him, body heavy from sleep. Jeremy grunted, pushing him to the side gently, only to earn a frustrated grumble from his lips.

He sighed softly, rolling his eyes, and sat up. Standing and stretching soon after, he went into Eric's well lit, chrome finished bathroom and showered clean.

Jeremy washed the sweat from his skin and the dried come from his stomach, having to do a little scrubbing. His chest still warmed at the sight against his will, forehead resting against the cool tile.

He turned off the water after a couple of moments, pressing his cheek against the wall. Everything came rushing back: the way Eric had looked at him, had ground into him with little, breathless murmurs, had smiled at him even though they were having hate sex. It took a whole minute for him to recall how he looked when he came, winded and blissful, gasping into Jeremy's earlobe.

Jeremy's insides clenched pleasantly, head fuzzy with arousal, but he stepped out of the shower and wiped down with a towel. He wrapped it around his waist and trekked down the hall, entering the kitchen. 

Eric had little in the way of breakfast food, but Jeremy did manage to find some greek yogurt, a banana, and his Keurig. He spooned the yogurt into a bowl, topped it with the sliced fruit, and brewed himself a cup of coffee. 

The scent of the roast was divine, and he leaned against the counter as he waited. In the time he had showered, Eric had apparently gotten up, given the arm wrapping around Jeremy's waist and the whisper of, "Hey," against his ear.

Jeremy smiled to himself, but made it smaller when he turned to face him. "Looks like someone's awake," he said, crossing his arms. "What do you even eat for breakfast?"

"The souls of my employees," Eric teased with a playful smile, thumb pressed to Jeremy's hip. "But occasionally, I do eat a salad."

"A salad? For breakfast?" Jeremy looked at him like he was crazy. "How?"

"Easy. I toss it, pour a little dressing on it, and eat it. People rarely eat greens at breakfast, but they have an array of vitamins."

"Still. Salad. You don't eat, like, donuts? Or anything?"

"Donuts?" Eric chuckled. "No. Not in years."

"I'm bringing you donuts and you're eating them."

"Okay, Jeremy. Hey," he muttered, nudging him. "Coffee."

"Huh? Oh." Jeremy picked up his mug, blowing on the now-brewed beverage. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

He looked around the kitchen, eyes landing on the fridge. On it was a selection of magnets, most of them for businesses in California. One thing, however, caught his eye: a picture of Eric and someone else. Jeremy squinted. He couldn't tell who it was at that angle, though. "Who's that?"

"Oh, that?" Eric's eyes flickered to the image. "Old friend. Haven't seen him in years."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. You were just curious." Eric stretched, yawning. "I'm going to shower, get dressed, and check on Cuddles. Have your pseudo breakfast for as long as you like. Leave when you want. I'm not going to rush you." With that, he headed down the hall to the bathroom. Jeremy stole a not-so-subtle glance at his ass.

Jeremy ate quietly at the island, taking the occasional sip of coffee. His eyes kept being drawn to the picture, however. The man beside Eric was tall and handsome with a megawatt grin. Who was he? And why had they stopped seeing each other? Eric said it had been years.

He sighed, wiping it from his mind. It was none of his business. The food was delicious, even if it was something Jeremy threw together. He should really ask where he got the designer bananas. Jeremy saw why people enjoyed spending a night here; the perks were plentiful, and Eric wasn't the type to kick someone out on their bare ass first thing in the morning.

He could get used to it.

He eventually slipped on his clothes again, leaving Eric's apartment around noon. Jeremy didn't have work that day, so he was free to go home and think about everything that had just happened and its consequences. Right now, he didn't want to, though, and just focused on heading toward the elevator.

Jeremy didn't notice the woman standing in the hall outside of an apartment on her phone. He didn't notice her snapping a picture. He didn't notice her typing the headline "Eric Reed Has A New Beau?" with a smile. All he noticed was the elevator doors closing before his eyes and it slowly descending to the first floor.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day when Jeremy went to the office, everyone was staring at him. Not that that was unusual; he had become accustomed to it by then. No, it was the whispers he noticed.

The next day when Jeremy went to the office, everyone was staring at him. Not that that was unusual; he had become accustomed to it by then. No, it was the whispers he noticed.

"Oh, my God, he's in so deep."

"I know, right?"

"This is so scandalous, you guys, wait until corporate hears."

"Heere's banging the boss?" 

A round of snickers. Jeremy paled, scurrying past them, which only caused more laughter in his wake. 

He entered Eric's office, leaving the chortles behind him. "Did you tell them?"

"What? No." Eric used a soft, rational tone. Jeremy immediately hated it. His cheeks tinted a shameful pink. 

"Did you tell them?" He asked louder, nearly shouting. 

Eric flinched at his words. "I can assure you, Jeremy, I did not. You have my word."

"Your word? _Your word?_ Your word means _jack shit_ to me! Everyone- they were laughing, and- fuck, corporate's gonna know." A tear streamed down his face. "You know that's bad for business, and- and- fuck! What if they fire me?"

He stood up, walking toward him. Jeremy flinched away. "I already lost everything I've worked for. I can't lose this, Eric."

Eric sighed heavily, setting a gentle hand on Jeremy's shoulder. "I can make sure they don't fire you."

"Wh- what? Isn't that favoritism? Won't the media get more pissed?"

"Jeremy. No one outside of the office- well, outside of the company, if they even remember you being Head of Ops, no offense- knows who you are. You ran under the radar. You were more down to Earth. Everything will be fine."

"Everything is _terrible_." Jeremy slumped against him.

"Not if we take what they've given us and run with it."

"What?" He stared up at Eric, undeniably confused. 

"Gossip magazines love celebrity drama. They love a show. It sells copies and subscriptions. So... what if we continue to pretend to be together? Show up at events together, go out to nice restaurants, maybe take a beach vacation, something along those lines? They'll love that. Maybe I could call up the author of the article and give them exclusive rights to taking pictures of us. They'll have a monopoly on our relationship."

"But-"

"Look at Brangelina. _The Bachelor_. All the getting together and breaking up drama. It's perfect. I can help with your image- our image. All you have to do is say yes." Eric held out a hand.

Jeremy stared at it, scanning each line on his palm, every whorl on his fingertips. He thought it over. Better publicity would be good, as the company would gain more money. And more time with Eric...? 

He couldn't pass it up. He took his hand, shaking it with an eager squeeze. 

"We're back in business, then."

"I mean, like you say- 'That's business, baby'."

"Let's give them a show they won't forget."

Jeremy grinned at him. "I know just what to do."

"Oh, you've got an idea. Do I want to know what it is?"

"I think it's a better surprise, actually. Sit down at your desk."

Eric looked around, but sank into his rolling chair accordingly. "What do you have in mind?"

Jeremy looked around a moment before going over to him. He stole a kiss, indulging himself a little, before kneeling before him. "Oh, I like where this is going," Eric murmured.

"It's not what you expect," Jeremy teased, unbuckling Eric's belt and unzipping Eric's fly.

"Are you sure? Because people have blown me at my desk before, Jeremy."

Jeremy felt some jealousy flare in the pit of his stomach. "I wasn't planning on blowing you," he denied, yanking his hips forward.

"Oh? Then what were you planning on doing?" Eric leaned back, gazing down at him with a playful smile.

Jeremy tugged his jeans down his thighs, boxers following. Eric held his breath, expecting sensation on his cock despite Jeremy's insistence.

He gasped, however, when Jeremy leaned forward and teased his lips over his rim, Eric's hands immediately clenching down on the arms of his chair. "Shit," Eric breathed. "Oh, I- It's been a little while since-"

"Is this okay?" Jeremy mumbled into his skin, eyes wide.

"It- It's, it's- fuck. Yes." He shuddered, leaning back. His eyes fell shut as Jeremy started to work, the feeling of his tongue drawing soft sighs from his throat, but when the doorknob turned, he yanked Jeremy's hair, trying to still him.

"Mr. Reed? Sir?" An employee asked, holding a portfolio in her hands.

"I'm busy at the moment. Can it wait?" Although he assumed Jeremy would stop, he kept going, jaw working lazily. Eric grit his teeth to give the effect of being frustrated, which he somewhat was at the intrusion.

"I wanted to extend my deadline. You see, this work-" 

"You have another week-" Eric swallowed a groan, stroking Jeremy's hair in an almost loving manner. Jeremy just hummed against him, slipping the tip of his tongue past his rim and stealing his breath.

"Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you!"

"You may go now," he managed to blurt, face a splotchy red.

"Oh, of course, sir!" She nodded, smiling, and left.

Eric slumped in his chair, looking down at Jeremy fondly. "You're so much trouble."

Jeremy smiled against him, saying nothing.

The whole office heard Eric shout when he fit his tongue in, heard his bitching, and then his begging, heard him come. When Jeremy left his office with a broad grin and a speckle of white on his chin, they stared down at their laptops with flushed cheeks.

It was good to be at the top again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jeremy thought of fake dating, he didn't think it would be a walk in a park. A literal walk in the park with Eric and his dog.
> 
> It was nice, though. And easy, right? Nothing could go too wrong.

Jeremy woke up to a call, and answered his phone mindlessly. "Hello?"

"Yes, hello, Jeremy. It's Eric Reed, your boyfriend."

He yawned. "No one talks like that, you know.

"Yes, I know. I need you to meet me in the park."

"Which park?" Jeremy blinked blearily, rubbing his eyes.

"The dog park, of course."

The dog park. _Cuddles._

"I'm getting up!"

"Are you saying you weren't already up?"

"It's eight in the morning, cut me some slack." He hung up. After getting dressed and putting on a jacket, he went out to meet him.

When Jeremy thought of fake dating, he didn't think it would be a walk in a park. A literal walk in the park with Eric and his dog.

It was nice, though. And easy, right? Nothing could go too wrong.

He mulled over this the whole walk to the park, taking in the scenery. Shops, restaurants, and businesses lined the streets.

When he finally made it to the park, he shoved his hands in his pockets, making his way over to Eric, who nodded in acknowledgment and smiled. "So, I-" Jeremy began.

"Hands out of your pockets."

"Huh?" He froze.

"You want to hold hands, don't you?" Eric adjusted the leash around his wrist, making sure to keep a good grip.

"Is that allowed?" He whispered, edging over to him almost nervously.

"Of course it's allowed! What kind of a couple would we be if we didn't hold hands?"

Even though Jeremy knew he meant it as an image thing, his chest couldn't help but warm as he took his outstretched hand. 

Eric linked their fingers and let Cuddles, who was trotting ahead of them, take the lead.

"How long have you had her?" Jeremy asked, punctuated with a squeeze of his hand.

"Two years now. Ever since she was a puppy."

He imagined a tiny Cuddles in Eric's arms, sleeping soundly. The real Cuddles tugging at the leash with a small growl negated the sweet thought, which was replaced with the puppy biting Eric's fingers and receiving a scolding at the behavior. He couldn't help but snicker.

"What are you thinking about?" Eric asked him, leaning against his side with a smile. 

"Oh, nothing. Just... Cuddles. She's cute, isn't she?" Jeremy gestured to Cuddles, who was now chewing on the leash. Similar bite marks littered the fabric.

"She's certainly a handful." Eric pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Would you like to try walking her?"

"Oh- me?" Jeremy chuckled nervously. "I don't know about that."

"Go on, give it a try. Jenna Rolan will probably think it's adorable."

"Jenna Rolan?" He squinted, confused.

"She wrote the article."

Jeremy looked around, unsure of what Jenna looked like. There were plenty of people going around with their dogs.

"I'm just saying it could make a nice feature. _Eric Reed's Boyfriend Bonds With His Dog._ "

"That's a long title."

"Not that long," Eric scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully.

Jeremy stared at Cuddles, who stared back at him with big eyes before looking at something off in the distance. He took the leash from Eric.

As soon as he did, Cuddles went running. Jeremy shouted, more in surprise than anything else, and dug the soles of his shoes into the pavement. All it did was cause friction and an acrid stench from the warm rubber. 

He could faintly hear Eric calling for him, but was too focused on the feeling of the sidewalk on his legs and the faint taste of grass in his mouth.

When Cuddles finally stopped bounding, Jeremy coughed, looking up just in time to see a squirrel ascend up a tree. She barked loudly at it, then gave a disappointed whimper, laying her head on her haunches.

Eric ran over to the both of them, Jeremy peering up at him dazedly. "Yeah," he muttered. "I think the magazines will get a kick out of this."

"Take my hand," Eric directed. He did, getting to his feet. "Let's get you some water."

"Now that you mention it, I am thirsty..."

"I meant, for your clothes. They're in a state." 

At that, Jeremy looked down. He was dusted with a fine layer of dirt. "Fuck."

Eric led him to a nearby kiosk, buying him a bottle of water, along with another, which he poured into Cuddles' travel bowl.

Jeremy watched him petting her as she lapped at the liquid, smiling like a proud father. His heart warmed. He poured some water into his palms, cleaning the worst of it off of his skin. The remainder he sprinkled onto his clothes, which stuck to his skin uncomfortably.

"We can go back to the apartment. I have some spare clothes that may fit you."

Jeremy nodded, relieved. "That sounds awesome."

As soon as they got ready to leave, there was the crack of thunder. Rain poured down on them mercilessly.

"Shit," Eric said.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you showering, too?"
> 
> "Are you comfortable with that?" Eric wringed the clothes in his hands, which caused some of the water dampening them to drip onto the marble.
> 
> "Uh," Jeremy said, teething at his lip. "Yeah. Yeah. Nothing I haven't seen before, so. Plus, it's just showering, right?"

Eric's apartment was just as airy as he remembered. It was quiet like always, save for their footsteps and Cuddles' barking. She shook herself dry on the hardwood floor and trotted off to the opposite end.

Jeremy looked around, breathing it all in again. It smelled very much like a new car, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the home spray he undoubtedly used or that any scent that appeared got wicked away in an effort to smell fresh.

Eric held out his hands. Jeremy raised a confused brow, looking between them and his face. "Your clothes. If you continue to wear soaked clothing in an air conditioned building, you're going to get a cold. 

He stared at him. "You want me to take off my clothes... in your living room."

"You've done it before, haven't you?" Eric smiled a playful smile, gesturing for him to hand them over again. 

Jeremy sighed and gave them to him, but Eric still looked at him expectantly. "Boxers, too."

"What?" He flushed, almost instinctively covering his covered crotch.

"Doesn't a hot shower sound nice about now?" Eric stripped his own shirt and shorts off without any shame. "If you want, you can change out of them in the bathroom."

Jeremy looked at him breathlessly for a heartbeat, taking him in, before nodding and speed walking into his bathroom. He slid his boxers off finally, holding them in his hands, and then paused. 

Eric stepped into the bathroom with him.

"Are you showering, too?"

"Are you comfortable with that?" Eric wringed the clothes in his hands, which caused some of the water dampening them to drip onto the marble.

"Uh," Jeremy said, teething at his lip. "Yeah. Yeah. Nothing I haven't seen before, so. Plus, it's just showering, right?" He nodded, turning on the water.

"Glad to hear that." There was the sound of fabric hitting the floor. Jeremy froze, the reality setting in. He was going to shower with his boss/fake boyfriend. Naked. In a tiny space. Oh, _fuck_.

Jeremy climbed in, set on getting clean as quick as possible. When Eric stepped in after him and leaned against his back, he let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. "What, uh- are there cameras in here, too? To take pictures of our couple-y selves?"

Eric laughed softly, taking a moment to nibble his ear, then kiss his shoulder. "Don't be silly." 

Jeremy flushed heavily, letting himself lean back into him. "Cause you said that- that we would be all lovey for the cameras."

"Who says we can't practice?" He mouthed slowly at the side of his neck, causing Jeremy to tilt it to the side in turn.

"Practice, yeah..." Jeremy mumbled with a light giggle. Eric pulled away for a moment and Jeremy almost legitimately whined, but just as soon as he left, he returned, hands in Jeremy's hair. 

It took him about a minute to realize he was washing it. "What are you-"

"Your hair needs damage repairing shampoo. Split ends."

"I do not-!"

"Oh, Jeremy, yes, you do. Maybe some dandruff shampoo as well?"

"Hey!" Jeremy huffed. Eric just chuckled, massaging his scalp, then rinsing it clean. Soon enough, he turned off the water and got a towel for Jeremy. He climbed out, taking hold of his own, and dried off. 

Once he was done, he deposited the towel in the laundry basket and, sans clothes, went further down the hall.

"Where are you going?" Jeremy called.

"My bed. Do you want to come?"

Jeremy swallowed, then followed him. His bedroom was pretty plain, but the bed looked large and comfortable, so he climbed in beside Eric. 

Eric opened his arms, giving his best smile, and Jeremy leaned into them, wrapping his own around his shoulders.

This was nice. He could almost see it in a different light. He and his boyfriend cuddling after a long day of work, not having to say anything at all. 

And, of course, Eric tucked him in and kissed his forehead. It made him want. Wanting _ached_. 

Wanting was never good for him, but he wanted, anyway. 

With a click, the lamp went off, and Jeremy was out like a light.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round face. Green eyes. Messy blond hair. Smirking lips.
> 
>  _It was him_.
> 
> "Oh, my-" Jeremy coughed, clearing his throat. "You're... Eric's secretary." He could have died on the spot.

When Jeremy woke up, he was upset to find Eric missing. He twisted in the sheets, whined, and felt around for him. He heard a distinct laugh from the other side of the room and finally opened his eyes.

Eric was at the other end of the room, getting dressed. "I'm right here, don't worry."

"Wasn't worried," Jeremy denied, sitting up and stretching. "What time is it?"

"It's evening."

"Oh." He looked around, then down at himself. "Should I go home, then? Since it's late."

"I had another idea." That was when Eric turned, revealing he had been getting into a suit.

It took everything a half asleep Jeremy had to keep from drooling onto his own chest.

"How do you feel about dinner?" He asked with a wry smile.

Jeremy opened his mouth to answer, but his stomach's rumbling was enough of an answer.

"Well, good." Eric helped him out of bed and into formal clothing, then off they went.

Apparently dinner meant dinner at a five star restaurant, because that's where Eric took him. Jeremy looked around, a fish out of water, and stood close to his side.

They were seated in a quiet corner, Jeremy's back facing the wall. It gave him a nice view of the restaurant itself, as well as the people occupying it. The atmosphere was actually kind of soothing, slow piano playing from somewhere in the eatery.

Jeremy opened his menu. _There were no prices_ , which probably meant this meal was going to cost more than two months rent. Hooray.

Eric ordered the two of them white wine and a sampler of hors d'oeuvres, then stood. "Excuse me a moment, Jeremy. I have to take care of some business." 

Jeremy nodded, gave him the most awkward thumbs up in human history, and then went back to perusing the menu. He must have been so focused that he didn't notice someone speaking to him until a hand was on his shoulder.

He turned to face the person, a greeting for Eric already on his lips, but it died once he took in their features. Round face. Green eyes. Messy blond hair. Smirking lips.

 _It was him_.

"Oh, my-" Jeremy coughed, clearing his throat. "You're... Eric's secretary." He could have died on the spot.

"Rich, actually," he said, holding out a hand. Jeremy was hesitant to shake it, and the both of them remained frozen until Rich pushed his hand through his hair. "Saw what happened the other day."

"What happened?" Jeremy drew a blank. Maybe the insult? Maybe the sex? Maybe the interrupted sex?

"Oh, you know. You walked out of _Eric's_ office with come on your face, looking like you fucking owned the place. I hope the blowjob was worth it, you know, because sooner or later he's just gonna dump you."

"You mean like you?"

"Shut u- ...Yes, like me. Except you're different, since you were the meek head honcho until he stole your throne. And now you're his fuck toy, and you think you own the place? You're sad, Jeremy." Rich raised a glass. "A toast. To your idiocy."

Jeremy glared at him, face burning. "You don't know me-"

"I know you're gone for him. I see you hanging on his every word like he hung the fucking stars. I see how happy you look." Rich's demeanor changed a little. "Look, don't go thinking you're special. There's only one person that matters to him, and they're somewhere in California. If you feel shitty, I'll make you a "fuck him" cake, but I warned you." 

"You're wrong about one thing. I ate his ass."

"You really are a piece of work, Jeremy." And then Rich went, carrying Jeremy's glass of wine, leaving the restaurant with his head held high after chugging it. Jeremy just stared.

Unfortunately, Eric soon returned to their table. "Are you alright?" He asked, touching Jeremy's cheek. 

Jeremy swallowed thickly, dropping his head onto the table. "I feel sick. Wanna go home."

"I'll pay the bill, then take you back-"

"My home."

"Oh..." Eric's face fell a little. "I'll get you an Uber."

Jeremy just nodded, head in his hand, and minutes later, he was in the back of an SUV, cheek against the window. He watched water droplets smear down the glass like tears and he wiped his eyes harshly. His driver said nothing, just got him home. Jeremy gave him a big tip.

As he walked inside his apartment, he saw Michael standing there. "What- what are you?"

"I read about it- you and him are together?" He grinned, holding up his phone. Displayed on his screen was an article about the two of them by none other than Jenna Rolan herself. "Jeremy, good for you! Live your best life with your boss boyfriend and his huge dog!"

Michael's face went from happy to confused when Jeremy started crying.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a text from an unknown number.
> 
> Puzzled, Jeremy opened it.
> 
> _heyyyy mr reed haha whats up? this is jenna btw. wanna meet for drinks with some buddies and talk? its a casual thing, dw_

After a tearful explanation, everything was much clearer. Michael awkwardly patted Jeremy's shoulder, then hit it playfully.

"Ow," Jeremy complained, laughing through a sniffle. "What was that for, dude?"

"If you told me stuff, I would've actually known not to talk about it. I feel like I only see you after something shitty happens in your pseudo relationship. Whatever it is." Michael shrugged.

He threw his legs across Jeremy's lap, smiling. "But that's not important. What's important is forgetting this fuck's name. You know, just for tonight, since you have to see him at work for..."

"Forever," Jeremy finished, then laughed weakly. He took to examining his carpet with a sigh. "You're right, though. Why are relationships so hard? So- so weird?"

"Maybe it's just you," Michael suggested.

"Gee, thanks." The frown was clear in his voice.

"No, no, I mean, like... You guys don't mean that well. Chemistry doesn't always mean an explosion. Sometimes things just... fizzle out?"

A sudden notification from his phone distracted him from Michael's awkward apology. Jeremy immediately pulled it out of his jacket pocket (he was still wearing that damn suit).

It was a text from an unknown number.

Puzzled, Jeremy opened it.

_heyyyy mr reed haha whats up? this is jenna btw. wanna meet for drinks with some buddies and talk? its a casual thing, dw_

"Who is it?" Michael asked, trying to lean over enough to see the message.

"Jenna," he mumbled, moving to turn off his phone.

"Jenna _Rolan_? The Jenna Rolan weaving your romance?"

"Uh... Yes?"

"What does she want?" Michael's expression grew slightly worried. "Does she know about the thing yet?"

"No, no." Jeremy shook his head. "She's asking if I want to go for drinks with her friends."

"Can I see that?"

Within seconds, Michael had snatched the phone and was replying.

"Dude, what the _fuck_?"

"You need to get out! Do something fun!"

"She's gonna bring up the thing. It's her _job_ , remember?"

"That's why I'm coming, too." Michael grinned, sending a text back. "Plus, she might have someone cute I can talk to."

An hour later, he and Michael were seated across from Jenna in a bar. It was way more low profile than he expected, but it made sense. Both of them were big in the news, and people would be looking in high places.

"Uh... Where are your friends?" Jeremy looked around, teething at his lips.

"They're not here yet. Brooke had to finish up a shoot real quick, and Dick's on his way from his shift." Jenna stared down at her phone, brows furrowed. She pursed her lips, pushing her purple curls off of her shoulders, then smiled at the two of them. 

"You have a friend named "Dick"?" Michael blurted, tilting his head.

"It's a nickname," she replied, tossing her phone in her bag. "He doesn't like it, but it's hilarious." Jenna's lips quirked. "So, you're Michael Mell."

"Guilty as charged."

"I thought you weren't into publicity."

"I'm not. I'm here for this guy." Michael hugged Jeremy, who made a noise of complaint.

When the barkeep approached them, Jeremy opened his mouth to order. Jenna, however, began ordering for everyone. "A Long Island iced tea, a mojito, and a lager, thanks." 

The barkeep nodded and left to fill their orders, but Michael and Jeremy were left gaping.

"Come on," she teased. "You two are open books. Easy enough to tell what you like by how you act. It's a science. Plus... you stared at those options. So."

"Jenna," called a female voice, then a blond woman bounded over. She pulled Jenna into a hug, then kissed her cheek. "Are these guys them?" she whispered, then waved with a little grin.

"Guys, this is Brooke. We're really close."

"So close," Brooke added, slipping into the semi circular booth beside her. It took them kissing on the lips for Jeremy to register how close they really were. "I model for her sometimes."

"You're a photographer?" Michael asked.

"It's more of a hobby..."

"Are you kidding?" Brooke gushed. "She's the best. I've never had another photographer as good as her.

Jenna coughed awkwardly, then Brooke reached across the table to shake both of their hands. "Good to meet you, too. I've heard about Jer, but Michael-"

"Designs games," he greeted. "Super fun, super fulfilling."

Brooke nodded, sitting back down as the drinks were delivered. "I'll take red wine," she added, and the barkeep was off again.

That was when the chaos started. A familiar face ran in, then leaped into the booth. "My ladies. My dudes. Richard Goranski has arrived."

Jeremy almost dropped his beer. "You're _Dick_."

"Duh." Rich shrugged, slumping. "That's what they call me, a dick." He laughed at his own joke, but became distracted by the sound of someone singing Whitney. "Oh, is that karaoke? Guys. Guys. Someone sing "Don't You Forget About Me" with me."

Jenna sighed, chugging her tea, and Brooke took a prim sip of her newly arrived glass. 

"I'll do it." There was the clink of a mojito glass as Michael set it down and stood up. "Or are you too chicken?"

"Me? Chicken? You did not go there." Rich mock glared, arms crossed.

Michael just grinned, and the two went to the stage. Jeremy nursed his beer in silence, bobbing his head to the music. Eventually, the three of them were humming along to the pair's off key vocals, and the other patrons were snapping.

He was kind of impressed with the whole thing. Jenna took a picture of the three of them and posted it on her insta, and he started to get into it. Who knew he would like the bar scene? Not him, certainly.

A murmur worked its' way through the bar several minutes later, cutting through the atmosphere. Jeremy was confused at first, wondering whether it had to do with the mic issues Michael and Rich were struggling through, but then he saw what they were murmuring about. Saw _him_.

_It was Eric. Eric fucking Reed was in the same fucking bar he was, asking the barkeep for a fucking Rosé in a fucking champagne flute._

Jeremy downed his beer and asked for a whiskey to drown in.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The entire bar went silent, and then erupted in murmurs. Michael stifled a snicker and Rich dropped his mic. 
> 
> Jeremy immediately died inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ft. my inconsistent posts. It's been like a month and a half. _Geez_. Anyway, enjoy!

Jeremy let himself be bewildered for all of five seconds before glaring at the tabletop. When his whiskey came, he swallowed it all in one gulp. He looked up. The others hadn't noticed yet. Good. Maybe the same would be true for Eric.

"Is that him?" Brooke asked, knocking him out of the brief period of relief he had been cherishing.

"It sure is." After pecking her girlfriend's lips, Jenna cupped a hand around her own mouth. "Yo, Eric!"

The entire bar went silent, and then erupted in murmurs. Michael stifled a snicker and Rich dropped his mic. 

Jeremy immediately died inside.

The man in question, who was mid sip of his fancy, pink wine, smiled. Then started to walk over.

Jeremy felt his soul starting to leave his body, because _of fucking course_ this would happen with his luck. He sank into his seat.

Since Michael and Rich weren't in the booth, that left prime seating beside Jeremy. Without hesitation, Eric slipped in beside him, draping an arm over Jeremy's shoulder. He even kissed his lips, laying it on thick.

...What was Jeremy upset about again? Right, right, he had to remain focused. He didn't want to be Eric's side chick. Man. Whatever. 

"You want to let the whole world know?" Jenna teased, raising her drink to her lips.

"It's not like they don't know already. Besides, I certainly do enjoy a show." He chuckled directly in Jeremy's ear. Part of him melted and part of him soured. Another gulp down his throat, like liquid fire.

Brooke gave a concerned look, then buried it beneath a mountain of sugar and a convincing smile. "Going pretty hard on that drink, there. What, is that 80 proof?" 

Jeremy just nodded, leaning into Eric's side. His eyelids suddenly felt droopy, mind fuzzy. It was worse than the brain fog he had gotten months ago as a side effect of too much Benadryl.

"Jeremy, take it easy on the drink, there. Have you eaten recently?" When Eric received no response, he frowned deeply. "I should take you home. It's late and you can't drive."

"Text me when you get home," Jenna insisted. "I'll tell Michael and Rich what's going on."

Jeremy barely noticed Eric's double take at the mention of Rich. What he did notice was being led outside, getting in a car, and being driven to a vaguely familiar building. 

Eric was there through it all, yet barely looked at him, expression a permanent grimace. He took him up in the elevator, smoothing his hand through Jeremy's hair. "Be careful. Too much blood alcohol, and you could-"

He didn't elaborate, going quiet with what sounded like a stifled breath. Instead, he took Jeremy into the apartment and settled onto the couch. Eric whistled, and Cuddles came bounding, leaping into Jeremy's lap.

Jeremy heard Eric whisper, "Watch this," then noticed him turning on the TV. He put on a Disney flick, head too fuzzy to comprehend it, then went off to his bedroom.

Jeremy buried his face in the soft fur as everything blurred to black, dialogue only a dull murmur in his ears.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy woke up to a headache like a drumbeat, fur in his face, and a dog's tongue licking his cheek.
> 
> In short, he was living _the life_.

Jeremy woke up to a headache like a drumbeat, fur in his face, and a dog's tongue licking his cheek.

In short, he was living _the life_.

He made a groggy noise, wincing as he opened his eyes. The light stung, harsh and bright, so he shaded his eyes. The blinds weren't open. It was the overhead lighting that made the space behind his eyeballs throb.

Jeremy carefully lifted Cuddles off of his lap, feeling his way along the wall to the kitchen. He nearly tripped a total of three times, stumbling so loudly he cringed, but he righted himself each instance.

However, the sound was enough to wake Eric, who made Jeremy nearly jump out of his skin as he opened the fridge. "Need some help there, baby cakes?"

"Baby cakes?" Jeremy managed to croak, a hand clutching at his chest.

"What, you don't like it? I thought it was cute." He pushed sleep mussed hair out of his face, gathering ingredients. Flour, eggs, pickles- wait...

"What are those for?" Jeremy squinted to the best of his ability, befuddled at the glass jar on the counter.

"Oh, these? I'm making pancakes." Eric turned on a burner, retrieving a frying pan.

"The pickles, Eric."

"The pick- oh. That's for your hangover."

Just the mention of its existence made his brain ache. Jeremy suddenly noticed how dry his throat felt and gulped down some water from the fridge. 

"Not the pickles, though," Eric continued. "The juice."

He almost spit it out. "The juice? You want me to drink that?"

"It's a trick. Learned it in Hawaii from an old friend. You can do it. I know you, my strong boyfriend."

Another pang, this time in his chest. Jeremy covered his face with his hands. "I'm not." His voice broke. It was on the top of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to say the measly four words. _I'm not your boyfriend._ It bled through him like an open cut, sharp and tangible.

Eric turned around while stirring the batter. He smiled, but his eyes were pained. "You, Jeremy Heere, are the strongest man I know."

That was what broke him. Seconds later, he was sobbing, ignoring how much it made his head hurt. He couldn't hold it back anymore. It was too much.

Eric didn't ask why. He placed the pancakes on a plate and turned off the stove, ignoring the way Cuddles was bumping his leg with her head. After, all he did was lay his head on Jeremy's, lips pressed against his temple so fucking gently. "It's alright," he rasped. "I'm here."

Jeremy sunk down, tears wetting Eric's shirt. He sniffled, shoulders shaking hard, as his hair was stroked. When he looked up, he saw Eric's eyes shone wetly. Words unsaid choked his throat, and as soon as he could, he pulled him down by the collar to kiss him deep.

He registered Eric making a sound of pure surprise, but soon forgot when he kissed back. Cuddles, sensing the air in the room had changed, trotted away to search for treats.

In the following minute, they left the pancakes behind to grow cold as Eric helped Jeremy traipse toward the bedroom. Once there, they tangled in the sheets, chuckling wetly and stripping off clothing. Once they were both bare, they went silent, hints of smiles remaining on their faces.

Jeremy looked down at Eric, placing his hands on his wrists. Taking a deep breath, he pressed their foreheads together and teased his hips down. "I want you," he asserted. _He truly meant it._

Eric Reed, with a fresh grin so unlike his work smile and the prettiest bedroom eyes he'd ever seen, mumbled, "Sign me the hell up."

So they felt and they felt, Jeremy buried in him so deep that he cried. Stars burst behind his eyes, from the pain or from the pleasure he couldn't tell. And when Eric whispered Jeremy's name it was rapturous.

Later, once they had snuggled together, Jeremy went off to get a drink of water. Staring out from the fridge was Eric and that man, whose face and eyes and smile were unfamiliar but comforting. 

He noticed then that the edge was folded. When he looked closer, he saw writing. Jeremy, looking around, pulled the image from the fridge, flipping it over.

_A moment I'll never forget. Happy 3rd._

_-Yours_

There was no date. How long ago had it been?

He turned it over again. Catching his eye was a band on his finger. Both of theirs, matching to the tone of the metal to the cut.

Even with the high lingering from earlier and the happy state Eric had been in, he felt a gnawing. Rich's words reappeared in his mind, a magic trick gone wrong. What had happened to the two of them?

Whatever it was, the picture was right. He would never forget this moment anytime soon.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning, Jeremy woke up sober and solemn. Eric kissed the back of his neck lightly, and he resisted a smile. 
> 
> _The damn picture._

The next morning, Jeremy woke up sober and solemn. Eric kissed the back of his neck lightly, and he resisted a smile. 

_The damn picture._ He had to remember it. He couldn't let Eric worm his way into his brain so much that he forgot.

"Happy 3rd," he muttered with a frown, and Eric's lips immediately stopped moving. He had frozen behind Jeremy.

"Where did you... What are you talking about?"

Jeremy took a deep breath, turning. "That picture. Of you and your friend. _Happy 3rd._ Who's Yours?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't ask." Eric's eyes were downcast.

"Why not? Do you have some other publicity boyfriend?"

"Jeremy-"

"No, let me finish. Am I just... Am I fake to you?" Jeremy averted his eyes, but looked back when he heard Eric sniffle. 

"I didn't want to tell you. I didn't know what you would think."

"Who is he?" Jeremy asked, expression softening a tad. His jaw remained set, however.

"My ex-husband." Eric wiped at his eyes roughly, moving to lay down on his back.

"Ex?" He blinked in surprise. When Eric nodded, Jeremy lightly touched his arm. "What happened? Did you get divorced?"

"If only that were true," Eric sighed. "It was... 5 years ago, I believe. I still lived in Hawaii. With him. I was so happy. But... one night he didn't come home. He worked late, so I didn't realize anything was wrong. At least, not until I got a knock on the door."

Jeremy's eyes widened slightly. A pit of unease formed in his churning stomach.

"He had been killed. Hit by an oncoming car. The driver was drunk." 

"Eric-"

He was crying openly now, hiding his face from Jeremy's. "I miss him every fucking day. For so long, I couldn't- I couldn't trust anyone. I didn't want to lose them, too. So, I decided to never get emotionally intimate again. Spending nights instead of committing. But..."

Jeremy inched closer. Sniffling himself, he laid his head upon Eric's shoulder.

"But you changed that. You broke me down bit by bit without realizing. I was afraid to get too close, but the fake dating... It was _very_ self indulgent." He laughed weakly, tears running down his cheeks. "I love you," Eric breathed, turning to look at him finally. "And part of me is still afraid, but- I want to make the most of my time with you."

"I love you, too," Jeremy replied, the admission lifting a weight from his chest. "Too fucking much." 

They both shared a laugh and a kiss, and laid together in silence a little while.

Eventually, though, Eric spoke up. "I bought something on a whim. Don't laugh, no matter how ridiculous it sounds."

"Is it a gag gift?" Jeremy smiled.

"God, I hope not."

"Please don't tell me you bought a vibrator."

"No, actually..." Eric leaned over to dig through his drawer, and procured a little velvet box.

Jeremy stared at it, gaping. "You're not serious...?"

"Well..."

"Eric!" Jeremy lightly hit his shoulder, tears surfacing again. "Is that...?"

"Why don't you find out?" Eric handed him the box.

He opened it, dumbfounded. "You bought a wedding ring on a whim?"

"I knew this was a bad idea." He sighed.

Jeremy put it on, staring at his finger. "You're proposing to me."

"No, I'm giving you a ring as a business proposition."

He pulled him close, holding him tight. "I can't believe you."

"Come on, we should get up. Cuddles needs to know she has two dads now."


	20. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Needless to say, everyone freaked the fuck out when it became public.

Needless to say, everyone freaked the fuck out when it became public.

Jenna was the first to call Jeremy, of course. "I'm taking the wedding pictures and you can't stop me," she said, to which he replied, "Go ahead. I owe you one." Brooke asked to coordinate the wedding with Jenna's help, and he smiled into the line.

Next came Michael, as soon as the press release came out. "What the fuck, dude? I had to find out you were getting married from the news."

"Sorry, sorry," Jeremy returned, wincing. "I have good news. You're the best man."

"Fuck yeah I am. You better be ready for my speech."

"Please don't mention all the times I cried over him."

"Be serious. Of course I will."

Last but not least was Rich, who was heard grinning. "Guess you can't say I told you so now. I'm bringing a cake, anyway."

"Actually-"

"It won't say, "Fuck him," it'll have two groomsmen statues on it. Edible ones. And you can eat the ass of-"

"Okay, okay." Jeremy covered his face.

"By the way, your bro Michael? Super cute. We've been talking, and... he's my plus one. Okay, bye."

All he could do after Rich hung up was stare at his phone.

When the big day finally came, he walked down the aisle with a huge grin. He held hands with Eric, close friends by their side, as they shared their vows. Cuddles trotted up to them with the ring cushion on her back, and once the rings were on, they kissed. 

The reception went smoothly, save for Rich nearly destroying an amp while he danced with Michael. When they danced, Jeremy rested his head on Eric's chest. And, once again, he nearly tripped all over himself. Soon enough, everyone left, Cuddles in the care of Michael 

That night on their honeymoon, they watched TV peacefully. When his phone went off, he picked it up. It was a notification for an article from Jenna.

_Baby Maybe? What is Next for Eric Reed and Jeremy Heere?_

With a giggle, he tossed his phone aside.

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally completed. This has been such a long, staggered journey, and I thank you for following it. I appreciate everyone along the way, including TrickrTreason, my beta; kadabralin, the legend herself; and DeoGenoCider, my collaborator and close friend.
> 
> Here is a list of songs I listened to while writing this fic:  
> Billie Eilish - My Strange Addiction  
> Absofacto - Dissolve  
> Joji - SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK  
> Queen - Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy  
> Boy Pablo - tkm


End file.
